to keep me from seeing something even worse barrelling toward me.
what a day.
a call from home--
a tragedy, a girl I knew as a kid.
distant enough to not have the waves of shock destroy me,
but near enough to seem a hell of a lot more real than a news story.
she was my age, two kids.
shot to death by a lover--
she and her husband went to tell him it was over, that they would work things out.
some of the other girls and I are sending flowers.
stupid gesture--how is that enough?
beat that guy to death with my trapper keeper, that's what would be enough.
lovely dinner with the husband and his buddy.
silliness, bad jokes, great drinks.
then on to the bar.
a band with lots of equipment setting up--
rock cover band, tingles of excitement, "this could be good!"
eh, or NOT, as it turned out...
but we played pool, and i was even worse than usual.
I was done drinking, felt shitty--but pretty.
drank water, peed a lot.
fucking-hot-as-hell girl walks in and ruins my mojo.
heh--i know, what a dumbass.
so I call my friend...
to see if she can come inject me with some "get your head outta your ass" serum.
everything turned upside down.
her date was lying in the parking lot covered in blood and the other guy was getting arrested.
there were at least 6 cop cars there.
I looked on.
this felt less real to me than a book I read--or wrote?
I was separate from it, but there was a tiny string slipping between all the chaos,
connecting me to the girl with splattered blood* on her face.
the girl who, in the middle of it all, as I finally made it to her, said, "but at least the cop who interviewed me is HOT--and he smells GOOOOD."
yes, yes--at least.
and at least they didn't charge her date.
and at least I got to take my first (and last, i hope) breathalizer test.
that made me giggle.
I was sober, as I mentioned, I had switched from beer to water, nearly 3 hours previous.
and hadn't had much beer to begin with.
but, cops being cops, they needed to be sure about my status if they were going to release this drunken bloody creature into my custody.
so I blew.
I suck at blowing.
but I was copesetic.
silly cops kept telling me I wasn't--
but with a twinkle in their eye.
"oooh, sorry, you're DUI."
cops love me.
have i mentioned that?
i'm glad it's still true, since i'm not 18 anymore.
that's when i met the most cops.
small town, late nights of driving fast = lots of traffic stops.
20, to be exact.
i was a good girl.
still am, it would seem.
It was a stranger day than I had anticipated.
and today looks promising--
blue, blue sky, like we usually have around here,
but it's been hidden by foggy inversiony poo for weeks.
sun and blue and sparkly white mountains give me a rush.
an "I'm so happy to be alive!!!!!" song-without-words which giggles through me--
or maybe that's just circulation returning after sitting on my feet a little too long.
and those events served as a harsh contrast to the relative splendor of my life--
I promise you I did not fail to notice that,
with gratitude and humility.
even if my kids discovered some new "game"(???) in which there is the dropping of something heavy, repeatedly.
fucking jarring, that.
and even if the garbage truck broke down right in front of my house, 2 hours ago.
fucking loud, that.
and even if...
last night hubby told me that he's considering backing out of this house deal.
the one we should have closed 2 weeks ago, but it's a "definite" for today.
either backing out or switching mortgage companies (switch=10-14 day delay).
anyone have some fucking, god damned MAALOX????
but I smile and nod.
I knew there was a reason I did the right thing by not setting the kids up at a new preschool yet--how could I, if I don't even know if/when we're moving??
and maybe I would be less stressed about moving if I knew anything about the place to which we're moving.
i don't know where any of the stores are, where my new gym will be,
i need to choose new doctors (like, urgently, because my god damn thyroid scrip has expired and my old doctor won't refill it without an appointment, and with our new insurance i can't see him ANYWAY.)
all I know is where my house is.
but I doubt I could find it on the first try.
which fucking freeway is the most direct route???
do i stay on 15, or switch to 215?
which exit do i take?
this makes me want to cry.
I am such a self-centered whimpy thing right now.
I do remember a time when I was a tough, self-reliant chica.
that era seems to be huddled in the distant, distant past.
perhaps I'll meditate a bit and find that girl today.
it is a good day for such things.
a good day indeed.
* she was NOT injured or involved in the fight. she tried to stop them, and got jostled a bit, and their blood got on her.